Leila couldn’t greet a new year with any enthusiasm, whenever it came. Years didn’t matter so much as moons in this life, and so tonight was a-week-before in her head, as comforting a tally as ever... which was to say not at all.
The Hog’s Head was emptier than usual tonight, which made a welcome change as Leila trudged about, dusting corners and collecting used glasses to be washed-up. Speaking of, the couple of people here looked especially washed up, even for their usual clientele - she was surveying them absently when she found herself eye-to-eye with Healer Belby. Westerman. Westerman.
She fought the flinch and the urge to turn away as if she hadn’t seen him, all the turmoil of their last - first - meeting flooding back to her. She hadn’t done what he’d offered - hadn’t gone to see him, asked him to teach her what he had qualified in all those years ago.
But he mustn’t believe this was enough for her; Leila didn’t think he had believed it then, not when she didn’t even believe it herself. She had come close - so close - to knocking on his door, truly she had - sometimes as she walked home she would take a detour just to pretend she might - but she hadn’t spoken to him since, had convinced herself that it would be a mistake, and was too late now, anyway.
No one would want her to heal them, even if she knew how, Leila was convinced of that. That said, she was still limping here and there from the twinge of her leg, the incident she’d had in the forest a month ago, and that was proof enough she couldn’t even take proper care of herself, even after patching herself up for the last five years.
Mr. Westerman had nodded at her though, which was already more cordial than she had imagined he would be if she bumped into him again. Turning away and taking a breath to steel herself, she tossed away her dusting rag and snatched a bottle off the shelf behind the bar.
“Can I get you another?” Leila murmured by way of greeting, tipping the bottle towards him questioningly, surveying him out of the corner of her eye as she did so. “On the house.” She added, not sure if she meant it as some kind of gesture, a peace offering - not sure if he would accept it if she did. To add to the list of things she was not sure about: had he meant what he said last time? Did he even remember it? Would he be remotely inclined to give her a second chance if she wanted it?